Harry Potter and Merlin's Return
by The Alethio
Summary: Harry Potter is just your average wizard. He's always wanted to be normal. But no, he just had to be Merlin's reincarnation. HP/DG, NL/TD, BZ/OC. Rated T For violence, swearing, abuse, and implied (NOT USED BUT MENTIONED) adult themes. Full summary inside.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1: I "accidentally" stab my cousin with a knife

**I would like to own Harry Potter and all the other fancy stuff, but sadly, I don't :,(.**

Harry James Potter was _not_ a happy camper. Dudley was chasing him around the school, _again_. He'd gotten used to running away. Harry hoped he could grow up into one of those big muscular guys in the movies he'd seen Dudley watching. Harry was small for his age, and his body's muscle looked thin, and wiry. He'd heard his Phy Ed teachers discussing why he was so small once. He was a natural target for bullying. As Harry ran down the school's playground, he wondered where Isabelle was. He hoped Dudley's gang hadn't got her, which was very unlikely, as she was a master at thinking of places where people wouldn't look for her. Isabelle was his only friend, and he treasured her more than anything. He kept running, turning the corner of the school and passed the dumpsters, any bully's favorite place for violence. He took a quick peep to see if anyone was there. There, was his friend, and the other half of Dudley's gang that hadn't been chasing him. There was Dudley, and to his surprise, he was holding a dull knife in his hand. Dudley had _never_ used something like that. He preferred his fists. Harry's eyes widened. How could he, an 8-year old with a deformed body, beat an overgrown baby whale with a knife? Dudley began bringing down the blade, while Isabelle's eyes lit up with an unfamiliar emotion he'd never seen on her; fear.

The blade pierced Isabelle's left arm, and she shrieked in pain. Something inside Harry snapped. He felt an enormous wave of anger rise over him, it's sole purpose focused on hurting Dudley. Suddenly, the knife in Dudley's hand fought against his grip, and started trying to stab Dudley. Dudley yelped, and when the knife finally hit Dudley's face, he screamed in pain. His cousin's screams of pain brought Harry out of his fury, and the knife clatter to the ground. Dudley and his gang ran away screaming about cursed knives and freaks, leaving Isabelle alone, shocked. Harry wasn't too sane either. He walked over to her, then ran when he saw the wound in her arm was still bleeding. Isabelle's sky-blue eyes were brimming with tears, and she was slowly rocking back and forth. He enveloped her in a tight hug, sitting down and letting her lean her head onto his shoulder. She was suffering, both in physical and emotional pain. He wanted nothing more than to stop her pain right now. Suddenly, her arm flashed bright gold, and the blood that had been spilling onto the pavement slowly retreated, back up her arm, and into the deep cut. Isabelle gasped, in relief or amazement he didn't know.

"How...," she asked, staring at me pointedly. "I know you did this, what did you do?" She asked again.

"I don't know..." Harry responded, just as confused as she was, but thankful. Isabelle didn't ask any more questions, just lied in the crook of his neck, while Harry hugged her. That's the position the teacher who'd been patrolling the playground found them, having heard Dudley's and Isabelle's screams. She saw the knife on the floor, and her eyes widened.

End of Chapter 1

**AN: This is my 1st story, so don't judge. I'll update tomorrow, since it's the weekend. I WILL update at the least once a week. THIS is NOT a OC/HP fic. It's a DG/HP one. Gray Harry. Nice Draco. Bad Weasley's, Dumbles Bashing, but Dumbles will be forgiven. Inheritance, but not too much. Powerful Harry, but will have to earn it. Special Abilities and Animagi. **


	2. Chapter 2

**Hello Friends!**

**First off, I have no excuse for not logging on in a while. I'm sorry, and I will make it up to you guys :).**

**Now, to my reviewers: **

**To: The Sword Of Magus 90 ITA- I know, I've seen tons of these before. Mine will be different *Cue evil laughter*. Thanks for the advice though, I appreciate it. **

**To: ceo55- Thanks, people like you give me inspiration :).**

**To: Le Diablo Blanc2: Beware the surprises :3.**

**To them haters: I love flamers. Come at me. This'll just give me more motivation.**

**Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling is the Queen. I am merely a scribe. One day...**

Vernon Dursley was afraid. How could the boy have done it? It must of been his _freakishness. _Yes, that was it, nothing more. The annoying, stuffy, old teacher was demanding to know if the brat had done anything like this before, but Vernon only responded with "I don't know." He was facing an inquiry at work now, and the boy just had to ruin it. Poor Dudley was in the hospital, and Vernon would make the boy pay, freak or not. He was just across on the other side of the desk, if only the woman would leave.

"Now, we must discuss what to do with Harry, Mr. Dursley. He could be of potential harm to the other students, and I will not have the police coming when someone gets injured more seriously than before," The teacher negotiated.

"I'll ship him off to the St. Brutus Secure Centre for Incurably Criminal Boys, as you suggested," Vernon stated in a gleeful manner. The teacher didn't seem to notice this. She just nodded approvingly, and set them on their way.

Vernon had barely turned the ignition key in the car when Harry started wailing like a child, despite his eight years of age.

"You can't let me go to that school! The teacher didn't even listen to my side of the story! It was an accident, honest," Harry pleaded, but in vain, Vernon knew.

"I don't care about your side of the story, you freak. You could rot in hell for all I care. You can thank your stupid alcoholic parents for leaving you with me," Vernon growled.

"No! I won't go there! You can't make me!" Harry screamed. Vernon just chuckled, amused.

"You think you have a say in this? You think you can stop me? You're just an eight year old, what could you do? Vernon laughed to himself. Harry just slumped over in defeat.

"Just you wait, uncle, just you wait," Harry Potter had vowed revenge.

* * *

Harry's little stunt caused him his longest punishment ever, and the most painful, too. He was currently lying in his cupboard, _chained_ to it, in fact. But Harry didn't even notice that. He was too busy groaning in pain, trying to not let the tears out. A broken arm, several cracked ribs, and even his _spine_ was broken, but Harry didn't know that. In fact, he couldn't even feel his legs. Harry was truly frightened. He could feel blood seeping into his hand-me down clothes, and his glasses were cracked, making young Harry totally helpless and vulnerable.

Harry was slowly, surely healing. His Magic, in fact, was repairing his bound and broken body, healing not just his injuries, but years of malnourish, abuse, and torture. Supplying him with energy to deal with the lack of food, he was turning into a 2.0 version. In his unsure mind, Harry had no idea what was happening to him. This of course, took him months, long enough for the summer vacation to end, and for Vernon to take the padlock off the cupboard, and take the chains off of Harry. Vernon smiled cruelly.

"Boy, change your clothes and clean your cupboard, it's time for school!" Vernon laughed. Harry said nothing, just did what his uncle told him, and got in the car. It was a long drive there, and Harry tried to memorize the way. He, after all, would need it.

They got out of the car, and Harry spotted boys, no _men_ who looked as if they belonged in jail, and their uniforms had a name tag saying, "Hi, I'm Larry!". Harry shuddered. They walked up the stone steps, which had long since been cracked and deformed, but no one bothered to fix them. When they got to the entrance, there it was, in big, red letters, St. Brutus Secure Centre for Incurable Criminal Boys. Vernon walked in, with Harry trailing him. He braced himself.

**Nice cliffy, right? Next chapter, poor Harry has "initiation" and is introduced to St. Brutus.**


	3. Chapter 3

**•BETA SEAL OF APPROVAL•**

**Ok guys, here's the deal. I'm doing this on my IPod, because my computer got a virus from a YouTube Video replaying website. So yeah... Updates are going to take longer until my dad fixes my computer. I'll still update regularly.**

**For you people who want me to make the chapters longer, I will ok? I'm slow at typing :P Here's a treat for you.**

**Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling owns it all. I only own my OC Isabelle, kay guys? Although, it would be fun to own Luna... Just think of the possibilities...**

"Shit!" was Harry's first reaction to seeing the Dean of students, Mr. Grouch. His name practically described him.  
First off was his face. There was a thick, long scar running across his cheek, and his teeth looked like they hadn't been brushed in months. He had green eyes, but they were vomit green, and his nose looked like it had been broken several times, while his dirty blonde hair was ran only amongst half his head, and the rest was bald. All in all, the bloke looked like he belonged in a horror movie of sorts.

"Ah, Mr. Potter, I've been expecting you," The Dean smiled in a vindictive way. Harry cringed under the man's gaze.

"Ok Vernon, Harry will be in safe hands for the rest of the year. In fact, I have already assigned him a roommate and a guide for him," Mr. Grouch explained happily.

"Thank you, Burt, hopefully I won't have to see the brat until the end of the year," Vernon ended. He excused himself with a wave, and left Harry in hell. Well not exactly, Vernon would have hoped for the real one, but St. Brutus was a close as he could get.

* * *

Harry had a plan. Granted, it would take weeks, maybe even months to accomplish, but he needed to find Isabelle. He knew for a fact that her family disliked her, but not for justified reasons. Her situation was similar, yet different to Harry's.  
Isabelle Andrews had grown up on the countryside, raising cattle, riding horses, hell, she'd "accidentally " stolen her father's tractor when she was four. Isabelle, like Harry, had been orphaned. A drunk driver had killed both her parents and her brother, while the driver had gotten away unharmed and scott-free. Isabelle was staying with her grandparents, who had grown up in the "tough" times. Seeing the world in their own way, they despised anything that made life different from the way they were raised, and Isabelle was a prime example of that.

First, he needed to get to know this place. Harry had already been assigned a guide. Hopefully, he could get some information out of him.. or her.

* * *

Isabelle was tired. Tired of her family. Tired of school. Tired of everything. In fact, she would have done the deed already, if not for Harry. He'd been her anchor in an uncaring world, and her only friend. Harry had turned into her older brother. "_He's not Will, stop it, she thought. _More than an older brother. Someone to watch her back, while she watched his. Isabelle was outraged at the fact that no one would listen to Harry, and made it her personal mission to settle a score, but first, she needed to get Harry the hell out of St. Brutus.

"Gramps, I'm going out!" She yelled. Isabelle didn't wait for a response, they didn't care anyway. Putting on a leather jacket and some agiator gaffes, she stood in the mirror, taking in her "badass" appearence._ This'll do, she thought. _Walking out the door, she ran to school, planning to seek out the transfer files from the school, and perhaps void them. Isabelle had a lot of work to do.

* * *

Harry's tour wasn't bad at all. In fact, it was down right pleasant. It was probably because his guide was an attractive thirty-year old woman who was actually being nice to him.

"Harry, here at St. Brutus, you will have an educational experience while visiting several therapists to discuss and get rid off your criminal behavior, and in return gain effective morals and life lessons to make your future education and life experiences easier and fitter," Miss Barow explained, showing the classrooms and lunch center.

"Um, ok," Harry responded, confused. What did all those fancy words mean? "Miss Barow, what will my classmates be like?" He asked nervously.

"Well, we house students of all ages five and up, and seperate them into different classes based on their age and crimes," Miss Barow answered. Harry gulped involuntarily. Would he meet other fat pigs like Dudley? Or would he find lost souls like him?

* * *

Harry didn't know what to think of him. Nathaniel Davis was a very odd person. He was eight years old, unlike Harry, who was nine, and Nathan hadn't spent his birthday locked away in a cupboard and bound to his bed for three months. Instead, he'd stolen a car, and crashed it into a bridge. Apparently, that was enough to get hin shipped to St. Brutus.

"So what's your story? Robbed something? Shot a bobby? I crashed a car," He said proudly. Harry took note to act carefully around him. Nathan didn't appear to have a problem with beating someone up.

"I accidentally stabbed my cousin in the face with a knife," Harry said carefully. Nathan laughed loudly.

"Accidentally? Mate, you don't "accidentally" stab someone in the face. You either mean it or you don't," Nathan continued to chuckle.

"Well, it was. My cousin was going to stab my friend with it, and I just got so mad. The knife kind of stabbed Dudley on it's own," Harry explained, slowly. Nathan's eyes widened.

"You're a wizard too! Merlin's dick! You're in my sister's year! Are you going to Hogwarts?" Nathan rapid-fires his questions. Harry just looked at Nathan, a little scared.

"I dunno, why do you think I'm a wizard?" Harry worded his sentence carefully. Maybe Nathan was a bit off his rocker.

"That was accidental magic! Do you remember weird stuff happening when you were mad, worried or scared?" Nathan asked. Now that Harry thought about it, Nathan was right. He vaguely remembered of when he was five years old and had made Dudley get stuck on the highest point on the playground at the park after getting rather annoyed wih him. Another time he had gotten perfect grades on his report card, and had worried that his aunt and uncle would punish him. To his surprise, the grades in the report card had changed by the time he got home. There were lots of other examples to draw from. It looked like Nathan might actually be speaking coherently for once.

"So you think I'm a wizard? What would your sister be? What are you? Harry asked.

"Well, my sister Tracey's a witch, and I'm a wizard. Were both pureblood, but unlike our cousins we don't support their bigotry." Nathan let that sink in for a while. "So what's your last name, Harry?" Nathan wondered.

"The name's Bond. James Bond." Harry quoted. Nathan and a few bystanders stared laughing maniacally.

"No seriously, what is it?" Nathan pleaded.

"Potter. Harry Potter-," Harry was cut short by Nathan's wide eyes and surprised face.

"Harry Potter? The Harry Potter? Morgana's tits! Seriously?" Nathan asked wide eyed.

"Yeah. So?" Harry was having a million questions shooting through his head.

Nathan, seeing Harry's confused look, commented dryly, "You don't know shit about what I'm talking about, do you?"

"Nope," Was his answer.

"We got a lot of work to do," Nathan sighed.

* * *

Harry's first meeting with his roommate pretty much set the mood for the rest of the year at St. Brutus. Richard Trent was the leader of the main gang in the prison school. Nathan, after explaining a lot of things to him that Harry didn't think was real, had warned him of the gang. They didn't have a name, but they didn't need one. Rumor had it that Richard had murdered his little brother on "accident". Everyone but the court knew better. So, there he was, being dragged by Richard's lackeys up on the roof. One of them held a bungie cord.

Tying one of Harry's legs to the bungie cord, Richard whispered into Harry's ear, "Welcome to St. Brutus," and promptly threw him off the roof.

**Alrigt guys, nice long chapter for you. Excuse me if I missed some grammar errors. Kinda hard to do on an IPod. Happy 4th of July for all the Americans who read this :). Expect a update on a week or so. Maybe less.**

**~Alethio**


	4. Chapter 4

**I'm back! Being stuck without Wi-Fi sucks. There's my excuse for not updating. My computer is also virus free.**

** Thanks for the reviews. Here are some answers to some people:**

**To: Fallen-Ryu: He sure is, and he'll make a show about it.**

**To: god of all, a constant reviewer: Thanks, you guys give me the motivation for this.**

**To: Penny is wise: One step ahead of you. Nathan's going to be Harry's "source" of the main stuff going on in the Wizarding World.**

**Thumbs up to ramen-luver101 who guessed why I named the bully Richard. Richard, for those of you who don't get it, means dick. (To all of those Richards out there, blame our stereotypical society, not me).**

**Should I combine my first two hapters, since they were so short? Give me some feedback guys, I appreciate it.**

**Disclaimer: I'm just playing with J.K Rowling's toys in the Fanfiction sandbox. She and Warner Bros and all affliated companies own it. I do not make any profit off of this. Don't sue me.**

* * *

In another world, where Harry was normal, in this situation, he wiuld gave screamed his head off. But, fortunately, this Harry wasn't normal.

"Woohoo! Yeah!" Harry yelled as he kept bouncing. Harry felt a sense of thrill he'd never had before, and he could feel the intense adrenaline pumping through his veins. All of the other students just stared. Richard was just fuming. He was enjoying his torture! It looked like he needed to be taught the extreme lesson.

"Pull him up boys. Looks like we're going to enjoy beating him to a pulp," Richard commanded. They started pulling the rope, having a pulley system to make the task easier. By the time Harry was pulled up, they were sweating repulsively, and Harry took note of it, he needed to know his assailants, after all.

Since Harry was just a five year old boy, he didn't have the manpower to beat his opponents. So he settled for technique.

Richard started untying Harry's leg, but he beat him to the punch. Figuratively and literally.

Harry's right hook to the family jewels left Richard yelling on the ground trying to recover. Meanwhile, Harry tried to salvage a weapon off of Richard's pain-filled body while Dumb and Stupid advanced. He found a wallet, which he decided to keep for later, and a switchblade. That would have to do.

Harry started towards Dumb and stupid. Dumb was carrying an old fashioned cricket bat, while Stupid had a kitchen knife. Not good.

Dumb had far more reach than Harry with the bat, and Harry's switch blade was a fun sized version of Stupid's knife. Harry observed his opponents a little more while they approached slowly, and Harry backed away until he felt the edge of the roof. Fuck. He'd gotten himself cornered.

Harry had had a rough experience in the art of violence. He'd learned a few tricks of the trade with Dudley, usually learning by experience.

Deciding to use Dudley's favorite, he ran at Dumb, who clumsily swung the bat at Harry's head. At the last second, he ducked, and sent a right hook under Dumb's exposed ribs. Harry felt his fist connect with the right organ, Dumb's liver. Dumb froze up and screamed, falling face first on the roof. Stupid didn't look so sure anymore, but still came at Harry.

Quickly without thinking, Harry grabbed Dumb's bat, and spun around, building up speed as to hit harder with the bat, and sent it flying at Stupid's face, which hit home.

Harry winced as he heard a cracking noise, followed by Stupid falling silently to the ground clutching his nose. By the looks of it, it was broken.

Harry suddenly felt his leg explode in pain. He fell, holding his leg, which had been hit behind the kneecap, successfully injuring it. Harry looked up to see a furious Richard.

"Boy, you're going to pay. I like to follow our traditional laws from the _really_ old days. I find them satisfying. Ever heard of an eye for a eye? A tooth for a tooth?" Richard asked calmly. Harry nodded weakly. "I think that applies in our situation," Richard proceeded to kick Harry in the child-maker, and then punch him in the liver, and Harry was hard-pressed not to scream.

Finally, Richard landed a solid punch on Harry's nose, effectively breaking it. Harry told himself he would not scream. He would not show weakness. Ever.

Telling himself this, Harry, with the switchblade, made an attempt to free himself. He stabbed the older boy behind the kneecap, just like he had kicked Harry there. Harry took a moment to think, with Richard's blood barely starting to drip on the blade, about how ironic the situation was. Richard, for the second time that night, howled in displeasure. Harry tried to pick himself up, but his efforts were in vain when he felt Richard's body topple on top of him. He grunted slightly, not used to such weight oppressing him.

Harry looked up to find Nathan in front of him. He looked at him expectantly, and Nathan just gave him a dirty look, muttering something about 'saving his ass' or something like that. Rolling Richard, who was still in pain, off of Harry, he offered his hand to him. Harry accepted it without hesitation.

"Look what we got here. Harry Potter accepting help from little old me. Wicked," Nathan smiled. Harry just grunted in response.

"Do you want me to get you to the nurse?" Nathan asked.

"No, I'll be fine," Harry lied smoothly. He didn't need Nathan finding out about his freaky healing abilities. He'd already figured out that e had them. How else would he have healed Isabelle? Or himself, over the summer in his cupboard?

"Ok, if you say so mate," Nathan knew Harry was lying, but didn't bother to ask why. He knew the Boy-Who-Lived held secrets much darker than his own.

"Could you help me to my dorm? Kind of hard to walk like this," Harry speculated on his damaged knee.

"Yeah, but sleep in my room, a least for tonight. We don't need Trent over there beating you up in your sleep," Nathan offered.

"Thanks Nate. Want to see what I got from Richard?" Harry spoke with mirth in his eyes.

"Hell yes. What'd you get?" Nathan inquired.

"His wallet. And from what's in here, I think his dad's credit card," Nathan could only shake his head.

"Damn Potter, you're good."

"I know."

* * *

Isabelle let out a sigh of frustration. Nothing! Absolutely nothing! Not only did she not find Harry's transfer documents, she didn't find any documents pertaining Harry at all! According to the school archives, there had never existed a student named Harry Potter. Setting the files back in the cabinet, she cursed under her breath. She'd have to take it to the extreme. Closing the cabinet, she crept out of the Archive room, closing the door slowly, satisfied to not even hear it click shut.

Introducing her new to plan to her original schemes, she sneaked to Harry's ex-teacher's room. Taking a hair clip from her hair, she inserted it into to the lock, slowly twisting and turning it the way Harry had shown her to. After all, being friends with someone who had a near delinquent cousin had its perks.

Hearing the lock retract, she slowly opened the door, and flinched when the door creaked a bit too loud for Isabelle's taste.

She snuck in, and immediately ran over to the big, important desk that Isabelle was certain belonged to Harry's teacher.

Starting to search the cabinets, Isabelle didn't notice the shadow that was slowly getting bigger, indicating it's owner was getting nearer.

Isabelle finally turned around to meet Harry's teacher.

"Ms. Andrews, would you please care to explain why you're filing through my archives?" She asked with a bit of a smirk on her face, like the cat who caught the canary.

Isabelle observed the teacher's dark, ebony hair, which in the near or far future, would start turning an ugly ash gray. Her thin, bony, but aristocratic face made Isabelle wonder about her bloodline. Sky blue eyes met midnight black ones, and Isabelle was compelled to say something.

"No, Professor Lestrange. I'd rather not," Isabelle spoke, frightened by the professor's smug grin.

"That's too bad, Ms. Andrews," Professor Lestrange grinned. Isabelle saw as she withdrew something that looked like a stick from her sleeve, and she fell into oblivion.


End file.
